#fisara’s scrawlings

[i-never-forgot]

Random Dusknoir headcanon that won’t leave me alone: his collar/ruff works like plumage for emoting (e.g. surprise, threat display, etc.)

I love that we PMD artists have seemingly unanimously agreed that Dusknoir’s “stomach mouth” is capable of expression since his “face” only has an eye, don’t get me wrong. I intend to continue utilizing this headcanon until the day I die.

However, the thought of his collar acting like plumage is just…hilarious to me. Ideas include:

Puffing up abruptly when he’s surprised or afraid, then smoothing it back down to look collected.

Laying flat when he’s really annoyed or trying to make himself look smaller/feeling vulnerable.

Flaring out to make himself look bigger as a threat display or when he’s really upset (angry, distraught, anxious, etc.)

Moving while he talks about something for which he’s passionate (flaring with emphases, reclining when he lowers his voice or listens to someone).

Quivering with nerves or excitement.

I’ve honestly been trying to sneak this headcanon into my art for a little while with mixed results. I want to make it more obvious in future projects. If any of you have anything you’d like to add, feel free!😊

[drinkingwithkhonshu]

thinking about jake lockley in an apron and briefs kneading bread with flour on his nose and all over his arms, the muscles bunching and flexing as his fingers curl the dough into a smooth ball to rest before he begins to braid it into a masterpiece

thinking about marc spector, dressed in dark, tight clothes without a speck of food on him, chopping vegetables and meat for dinner, so particular about keeping the knives and boards separate, adding it all to the pot and propping the spice cabinet open to season it all and bringing it up to heat and filling the flat with mouthwatering, savory aroma

thinking about steven grant with his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he trails his blunt fingertip down the page in the recipe book propped open on the counter, powdered sugar sprinkled in his dark curls as he finds his place to follow the next step in the recipe

thinking about you orbiting all of them as they work, helping where you can while fixing your own side dishes, letting your hands brush against their sides and wrists and back as you slip behind and around them, littering kisses and murmuring lovings

just…the moon boys being domestic in the kitchen🥺I think food is my love language

[asimplearchivist]

Page 1 | Page 2 | Page 3 | Page 4 [Here]

(Oh, Dusknoir, you really have no idea do you😶)

[longer-than-i-should-admit]

Don’t mind me I’m just getting emotional thinking about mage wardens

I’m thinking about Duncan asking for the warden’s phylactery from Gregoir and him balking at the thought bc even though the warden is being taken from the Circle there’s always ‘what if? what if? what if?’ Irving trying not to show the tremble in his hand when the Knight-Commander finally relents, passing it carefully into Duncan’s palm and watching the apprehension passing over the warden’s face all the while.

I’m thinking about Duncan not mentioning it once until they reach Ostagar, not until after the warden becomes a warden officially, not until that very night as they’re preparing for bed and he stops by and hands the phylactery to them.

“I’m not meant to—to have this!” stutters the warden, face blanching at the thought of touching the very thing that had bound them to the Circle.

“I understand,” Duncan says evenly, not unkindly, “but I will be very busy as we prepare for battle and I do not want to chance misplacing it. Just hold on to it for me temporarily, will you?”

“I…yes, ser,” the warden murmurs, only daring to touch the vial long enough to tuck it securely into their pack, wrapped in fabric to cushion it.

Duncan never asks for it back. They and Alistair wake in the Wilds, and it’s still buried in their meager belongings. The warden clings to it like a life preserver, wondering if Duncan had somehow known that he would be unable to keep it.

They do not have the heart to do away with or break it, even though the promise of being well and truly free is right within arm’s reach, despite Morrigan’s critical urging to ensure every chance of their survival outside of the Chantry’s clutches.

I’m thinking about the warden slowly growing comfortable with the wide open world around them, and trusting the people that they keep close, admitting that they don’t know everything and apologizing when they make mistakes, watching the pity in the others’ eyes slowly morph into respect and understanding and empathy and care.

I’m thinking about the warden wordlessly pressing their phylactery into Alistair’s hands, gaze unwavering as he flounders.

“I can’t—I don’t want this,” he protests, face wan.

“I want you to have it,” the warden says resolutely, because their greatest battle yet is looming at dawn and they do not want to be lost in the tide of corpses that would surely pile the countryside. “Please.”

I’m thinking about Alistair finding the warden in the aftermath, unconscious but alive thanks to their mutual sacrifice (giving his eternal thanks for Morrigan all the while as he bundles the warden up into his arms), the phylactery pulsing against the hollow of his throat in time with the warden’s pulse.

I’m thinking about Alistair a decade later, curled up where he struggles to sleep, clutching that same vial against his heart with his eyes squeezed shut to concentrate on the fact that despite the time and distance separating him from his warden, their love is still right there in the palm of his hand—alive and well.

[that-sounds-stupid]

What I wouldn’t actually give to be able to cuddle with Miguel O’Hara rn🥺

[beenthere-neededthat]

not to be horny on main or anything but I want ratchet to knock me tf up

[asimplearchive]

𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 @𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽’𝓼 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰! 𝓘’𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓻𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮.

𝓕𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓸𝓷 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓼𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓘 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓻 𝓾𝓹𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓼, 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓾 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽.

𝓕𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓸𝓼 𝓾𝓷𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓭 (𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓘 𝓪𝓵𝓼𝓸 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓼 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓼/𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓾𝓹𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽), 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 @𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮.

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮, 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼! 𝓘 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓪’𝓵𝓵 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂. :)

—𝖋𝖎𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆

[ Archive of Our Own | My Tip Jar ]

[i-never-forgot]

I HAVE A VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION FOR ALL MY FELLOW FUTURE TRIO ADORERS:

For example, Grovyle would be my answer bc Darkrai interefered directly into his life the most robbing Eliana’s memories and causing them to nearly kill each other out of ignorance. Celebi certainly has beef with him messing with time, and Dusknoir—now redeemed and fully aware that the paralysis was Very Not Good™️—would be Fucking Pissed™️ that he dared to lay hands on Eliana and Lu (and tried to convince them to off themselves), but Grovyle would just be seeing red. The others would probably have to stop him from going too far.

[asimplearchivist]

Have one of my first ever digital drawings of these two from a few months ago🥹I’ve changed how I shape Dusknoir a little but I’m really proud of how I drew Eliana here

[i-never-forgot]

You guys will never guess what I impulse-purchased this morning👀it should be arriving next week

[asimplearchivist]

*posts and runs*

Here is my canon rescue team! Transcripts of the text in case you can’t read my chicken-scratch:

Tree:

Shy as hell

Doesn’t talk a lot

A total doormat

Very astute, perceptive, and knowledgeable, though

Mommy Issues™️

Eve:

Dumb as hell

[Half-star] IQ energy

Stresses Tree the hell out by being unobservant and leaping before looking (sometimes literally)

Will throw hands to protect him with her life, though

Eats anything

Chika:

Gentle giant

Do NOT fuck with her team, though

Will Solar Beam the shit out of you at any given moment

The Mom Friend™️ of the gang; very organized, cautious, and protective

Will forgive anyone but will NEVER forget

Ty:

Human-turned-Pokemon

Perpetually tired

Is Done™️ with the saving-the-world bullshit

Strongest Poke of the bunch if pressed

Very considerate and concerned about his team’s safety always

[asimplearchivist]

Have a (very loose, messy, and poor quality) sketch inspired by Chapter 23 of @sincerely-sofie’s fic for her @the-present-is-a-gift-au! :) Please check it out, it’s such an emotionally investing and enjoyable read!

I didn’t realize that Twig is the wrong color until after I finished…and the second panel’s text is backwards…please forgive me Sofie this is not the best quality of first fan art for your wonderful AU🥲but that scene (and the one where Dusknoir carries her) have been rotating rent-free in my mind and I had to get this out of my head and onto paper before I broke down into Dadnoir-induced tears🥹

[asimplearchivist]

This is based on this post and motivated by @fujii-draws’ contributing tags👀

[i-never-forgot]

dusknoir would give the biggest, tightest, most enveloping, best hugs ever. end of discussion…

(just kidding lmao y’all know that ain’t the end of it)

…provided, of course, he learns how to give them.

once he grows accustomed to the absentminded physical affection that the others trade so casually, so thoughtlessly, so comfortably.

once he overcomes his initial aversion to touch bc of the fight-or-flight instinct he’s lived with all his life and realizes that he’s not only touch-starved, but touch-famished—touch-malnourished, if you will.

once he tamps down his suddenly realized ravenousness into something less overwhelming and something more palatable (in his mind, at least) to those around him who—not too long ago—he was actively hunting down with the intent to execute.

once he stops flinching when someone reaches out to him, stops tensing when others raise their voices a little too loud, even in excitement, stops clenching his hands into fists when he surveys any given room or space for exits and assesses the unfamiliar Pokemon for who would pose the biggest threat at any given time.

once he learns how to measure his strength so he doesn’t accidentally hurt anyone, no longer needing to utilize the violence he so carefully developed, now suddenly so mindful of his body and the space he takes up as well as the frightening power in his arms and the sheer size of his destructive hands.

…ultimately, dusknoir would give the best hugs once he forgives himself, like everyone else has, and allows himself to be hugged first—to experience love and gentleness at its most vulnerable, without fear.

[asimplearchivist]

Have some sketches of Eliana and company inspired by this post by @sincerely-sofie (from my ask lol)!

The top half would technically be canon in my fanon since Eliana totes Treecko (pre-Grovyle) around due to him being a bit frail and timid. I also headcanon (like Sofie) that Treeckos right on the backs of the parents (similar to alligators/crocodiles I believe), so he feels safer when he’s close to her. Oftentimes she’ll wear the hoodie backwards at night so she can hold him while he sleeps and she keeps watch. She’s supposed to wake him for his turn but she almost never does unless she’s absolutely running on fumes.

The bottom half is somewhat of an AU where she finds a young, terrified Duskull instead. Not much thought went into this one, I just liked the idea of baby Dusknoir liking to nap and cuddle a lot, based on that post. (Perhaps Sceptile would be Primal Palkia’s main henchman after Cresselia drove him mad? Idk)

[asimplearchivist]

ghost is the type of guy who, when he wants to flip to sleep on his other side, simply grabs you and rolls you over with him

it takes you by surprise the first time, shocked at the ease with which he simply bundles you up in his big beefy arms and tucks you over his hip as he turns, but after the second time you love it more than you’d readily admit

he doesn’t even fully realize that he does it tbh, he’s mostly asleep and his rib is catching but he doesn’t want to let you go so he just…takes you with him

(on the rare occasion that you’re the big spoon, sometimes he can’t make it through the whole night without being able to hold you properly so he’ll reach back and tug you over him and fold you under his chin and against his chest and you just dazedly lay there and wonder how effortlessly he can heft you)